


He Found His Equal

by giles_forever8495



Series: The Reddington's [1]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, One Shot, Romance, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:44:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13535088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giles_forever8495/pseuds/giles_forever8495
Summary: “What then,” his voice tumbled deeply, “should I do? What do you think would be the best way to ‘get rid of him’?”Liz looked him straight in the eye and without even thinking said, “Kill him.”





	He Found His Equal

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: if the death of corrupt police officers bothers you, there is a very small segment about that in this short. 
> 
> Also, my apologies for any and all grammatical errors. This was a short that I wrote because I couldn’t sleep last night. Hope you enjoy!

She had an idea, sort of, about who he is. I mean, she knows he's kind of a big deal. He drives around in expensive cars that are retrofitted to be armored vehicles. He always carries a gun, but he doesn't even have a valid driver's license so the gun definitely isn't legal. He doesn't know, but she knows about the scars on his back...every time they hug she can feel them. And she also knows that Dembe is more than just a driver. He also carries a gun everywhere. They change burner phones every few days - will only keep them for two weeks at most, if it's necessary. They don't stay in the same hotel suite for more than three days. And obviously he has money: the hotel suites, the cars, the suits, the hats. He screams wealth and power. The dinners that he takes her to are filled with people just like him, with the exception that everyone seems to fear him. She meets women that know him; they always mock the age difference. But she knows better. He loves her, always has. Sometimes she even pretends to be someone else, if it somehow helps his business. She doesn't ask questions though. She doesn't want to give him a reason to lie to her. He's good that way, never wanting to lie. So she just stays quiet about it all, but she knows. Kind of. She calls him Red. The women call him Raymond. His business associates fear to mention his name in front of her. But she's smarter than anyone gives her credit for. She knows. Raymond, Red. Reddington. He's Raymond Reddington. She's in love with Raymond Red Reddington.  
—————————  
It started five years ago. They met in a little coffee shop around the corner from her apartment. He was standing in line behind her going on and on about the French crullers in the display. Apparently, they were the best cruller on this side of the Atlantic. The line had been quite long that day and he was intent on sharing with her the origins of crullers. How they were originally from Germany and called spritzkuchen. The way the words rolled off his tongue was enchanting and the deep, rough timber of his voice lulled her. He ended up paying for her coffee and they sat and talked for hours. It was a good thing, too, because she did not want to go home to her wretched husband.

Tom was a foul man that she married too young. She thought she needed him to survive in this world, but she realized quickly after the wedding that her independence would be the only way she survived. The bruises he left on her skin were never visible to the public. He was a police officer and knew where to hit her. The broken ribs and bruised kidneys went unknown to the world, but every move she made was in pain. Her only relief had come through Red and their time at the coffee shop.

One day, Red discovered her secret. He was pulling out her chair, as was his normal routine, when the back of her shirt had risen a few inches as she sat.

“Elizabeth,” he’d said quietly in the stern voice he used very rarely. “What is this?” Gently, he had touched the dark skin just above her hip.

“Oh,” she’d said offhandedly, “it’s nothing. Just had a bit of a fall on some ice.” She tried to laugh it off, but even that effort caused her to wince in pain.

He sat down in front of her and the look on his face spoke volumes. Liz told him everything about Tom: the abuse, his occupation, and her fear. She hated being afraid of the man. She knew her strength exceeded his, but the fear of no one believing her story outweighed her desire to flee. She had no one, but Tom.

“No, sweetheart,” his gravelly voice choked out behind tears, “you have me.”

And that was that. A week later, Liz was living in Boston under a new last name with a beautiful apartment looking over the Charles. Red visited every few days. There was never a pattern to his visits, and she knew it was because he didn’t want to be followed. He kept tabs on Tom, claiming that he didn’t want the younger man to come after her. Not long after her move to Boston, their friendship became something more, but it still lacked the intimacy she desired.

Liz always asked to spend more time with him, a few days here and there was never enough. So he began taking her on trips and to parties and fancy dinners. To Red’s credit, it took Liz about two years to discover his true identity. But when she finally did, she was more relieved than she thought. The Raymond Reddington that the world thought they knew was nothing more than a soft-hearted romantic. Sure, he was rough around the edges at times, and more than a little dangerous. But above all, the man is loyal, kind, energetic, and childlike in his adventures. He’s the definition of eccentricity and he loves it. He lives his life in terms of memorable moments and experiences instead of defining happiness in wealth or power. Though he does have those things, they mean nothing to him besides a means to an end, which is protection.

And protection was most important.  
—————————  
“Red, it’s been four years since I moved here. If Tom hasn’t found me by now, he never will.” Liz was chopping onions at the island counter in the kitchen watching as Red made a number of phone calls to associates in the D.C. area.

“As long as the man is alive, Lizzie, I will always want to know his whereabouts. The moment you or I begin to underestimate him is the moment he succeeds.” Red slid his phone into the pocket of his grey slacks and meandered into the kitchen. As Liz cut into the second half of the onion, Red slid behind her, wrapped his arms low around her waist, and gently nuzzled her neck. “Besides,” he said breathing in her scent, “I believe I will always do whatever I feel I have to do to keep you alive.”

Liz rested the knife against the cutting board and closed her eyes as his lips pressed into her neck. The feel of his voice vibrating on her skin sent chills down her spine. “If you really think he’s a threat,” she began quietly, “why don’t you just get rid of him?”

Red halted his movements immediately. She couldn’t possibly be asking what he thinks she’s asking. “Get rid of him? Keeping at bay isn’t enough?”

She put the knife down, wiped her hands on a towel, and turned in his arms to face him, “keeping him at bay is enough for me, but you’ve been keeping an eye on him since the day I left. Keeping him at bay isn’t enough for you.”

“What then,” his voice tumbled deeply, “should I do? What do you think would be the best way to ‘get rid of him’?”

Liz looked him straight in the eye and without even thinking said, “Kill him.”

That was the moment, for Red, when he realized she knew. She knew, but didn’t care. In fact, Liz not only accepted Red’s identity as the Concierge of Crime, but she seemed to be embracing the reality that he would prefer to kill than evade. So that night, over the home cooked meal that Liz finally learned how to make, Red sent for Tom to be killed. It was to look like an accident, of course. Well, sort of. He would be killed in the line of duty by a gang member he put away. It would seem like a revenge killing. However, Tom wouldn’t get full honors like other, decent, police officers. No, there would be an investigation revealing Tom’s abuse on his wife, her fleeing, and his obsession over finding her. He’d be disgraced and dead, and Liz would finally be free of any looming fear.

From that moment on, their relationship grew and strengthened. Liz trusted Red completely, but more surprisingly, Red trusted Liz completely. He began to read her in on many of his business dealings. Her insight had proven to be extremely useful in taking down his enemies and growing his empire. She was, by far, his most valuable asset. Except, Lizzie was so much more than an asset. She was the light in his darkness, the love of his life. It was like so many romance novels and movies. He found the simplicity of her to be the most delightful thing in all the world. Truly, he would do anything and everything for her.

Five years after the day they met and free of Tom, Red took Liz back to that coffee shop. She got the same coffee, he ordered the same crullers, and somehow they even managed to sit in the same seats. It was fitting, he thought, to go back to the beginning in order to move forward. He rambled on nervously for what seemed liked hours before he was able to say what he really wanted: he loved her with all his heart and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Red gently perched on one knee and presented a simple, elegant diamond ring to Liz, asking if she would be his wife. Naturally, she broke into tears and threw her arms around his shoulders. Everyone in the cafe cheered as Red slipped the ring onto her small finger.

The wedding was small, in a church in Nebraska near where she grew up. Only a few people were invited, the most trusted of their friends. It was beautiful and unique, just like the happy couple.

For their honeymoon, Red took her to a private island off the coast of Brunei. It was breathtaking. Liz had never felt so at peace. Finally, she was happy, and in love with a man that was the closest thing one could come to perfect.

They ran around the world together for years. Hosting parties in Italy, tasting wines in France, celebrating Octoberfest in Germany, their adventures were damn near endless. It was only after a particularly nasty incident in Madagascar that Liz asked Red to settle down, for good. He didn’t hesitate to heed her request. With 32 stitches in his leg, Red and Liz went back to the island and lived out their days in peace.

Of course, it wasn’t that simple. Every few months, one or both of them would get bored, so they would throw a dart at a map and go wherever it landed. As long as they ended up back on the island after two weeks, they were happy.


End file.
